Ted had spent most of the evening explaining to Dougal exactly what a virus was, and why it was important to stay inside. He had gone over it again and again with the young lad, going through every possible scenario, just in case. This had, naturally, ended up with Dougal rocking in the corner of their bedroom, eyes wide and sweating.

Ted, who sat up in bed, put his newspaper in his lap and looked over at him. "Dougal, for the last time, you do not have the virus."

"But Ted –,"

"Dougal," Ted said, in a warning tone. "You do not have the virus. You don't have any of the symptoms."

"But Ted –,"

"No, Dougal. You're fine," insisted Ted. "I know Father Damo gave you a bottle of Corona last week, but it has nothing to do with the virus."

"Are you sure, Ted?"

"Quite sure, Dougal." Ted looked down on his curate. "You only need to worry if you have flu-like symptoms. Now, why don't you go to bed and try to relax."

"I can't relax, Ted," cried Dougal, continuing to rock. "There's a virus out there!"

"Dougal, the truth of it is, we're likely to be very safe on Craggy Island. We don't have a big population and there are lots of green spaces."

"We have lots of disabled spaces too, Ted. There are loads at the supermarket," replied Dougal.

Ted nodded, resigned to the younger lad's dialogue. "Yes, that's also true. But we probably won't have many cases."

"Mrs Doyle has loads of cases, but she never goes on holiday," mused Dougal. "I wonder what she keeps in them."

"Go to bed, Dougal," said Ted, still resigned.

Dougal crawled to his bed and climbed up on it, curling around in the fetal position. "Can I sleep in your bed tonight, Ted?"

"No, Dougal. We can't do that at the moment," explained Ted. "We have to distance."

Dougal lifted his head and looked at Ted, who could see an expression in his friend's face he had never seen before. "What is it, Dougal?" asked Ted, feeling quite concerned.

"Is that like when you told me about the cows, Ted?" asked Dougal, very seriously.

Relief washed over Ted. "Yes, Dougal. Like the cows. We have to stay far away."

"Oh right," sighed Dougal. "But Ted, I like sleeping in your bed."

"I know, Dougal," replied Ted, returning to his newspaper. "But you can't."

"But what if I have a bad dream, Ted?"

"You'll just have to get yourself off to sleep again."

"But what if I get cold?"

"There's a blanket in the cupboard."

"But what if I just want to be close to you, Ted?" asked Dougal.

Ted lowered his newspaper and looked over his friend. He sighed deeply. Truthfully, he did love it when Dougal wanted him, needed him, even. He relished the moments in the night when he woke up with Dougal's arms around his waist. "Dougal, that's very sweet, but I'm not going anywhere. We're in lockdown, that's the point."

"Oh, right, Ted."

"I'll be in the bed next to you, just like I always am. Okay?"

Dougal sat up and grinned, his eyes wide. "Okay, Ted."

"Now, get into bed and go to sleep," instructed Ted, folding up the newspaper and putting it down next to his bed. Across from him, Dougal snuggled down under his duvet, yawning to himself. Ted did the same, leaning over to turn off the light.

"Goodnight, Ted."

"Night, Dougal."

"Ted?"

"Yes, Dougal."

"If we're not allowed to leave the house, who is going to do Mass?"

Ted sighed. "Goodnight, Dougal."